Daria vs Abraham Lincoln
by Smileyfax
Summary: In a story that has absolutely nothing to do with the title, Daria attends Brittany's party alone and in doing so changes the course of human history forever. Well, the course of her own life, anyway .
1. Invitation to Disaster

Daria gazed impassively at the table of snacks and refreshments at Brittany's party. She had been invited for helping Brittany -- using metaphor and very small words -- understand how to draw perspective. She had reluctantly decided to go -- well, not so reluctantly, since Quinn's attendance meant an opportunity to embarass her.

To be honest, she was a little grateful for the invitation. She hadn't made any friend -- or even spoken to anybody outside of answering questions in class -- since she had arrived in Lawndale. All humans were social animals, something not even Daria was exempt from. She tended to keep only a small circle of acquaintances, though -- in Highland, that was Stewart, Cassandra, Beavis, and Butt-head.

She had enjoyed hanging out with Beavis and Butt-head the most, since they invariably amused her with their activities. They had also made great Quinn repellant. She wondered if they missed her...but dismissed the thought immediately. More likely, they had forgotten she had even existed after a week or two.

She almost wished there were somebody as stupid as them at Lawndale. She supposed Kevin and Brittany counted, but she wasn't cruel enough to insult Brittany -- though simple, she wasn't petty like some of her ilk at Highland had been. And insulting Kevin would be shooting fish in a barrel with an Uzi.

Daria sighed and put her mind on the most pertinent question at hand: flat, or ridgy. Just as she had decided on ridged potato chips, a guy approached her. His hair was a carroty red and he wore a yellow polo shirt. On his face was a leer that made Daria just a little uncomfortable.

"Chuck Ruttheimer here," he introduced himself. "And you are?"

"Esmerelda," Daria informed him.

"What an exotic name! Would you care for a tour of the house?"

Daria considered his offer. Another hour or two of staring at the snack table, then calling Helen or Jake to pick her up, or...

"Do you take tips?" she asked him.

"Of course," he reassured her.

"Ditch the bangs."

"Feisty!" He put his arm around Daria's shoulder.

Daria's hand quickly darted into her coat pocket as she shrugged off the redhead's arm. "Look, Upchuck, unless you want to find out what a can of mace feels like sprayed into your face, don't touch me."

He growled -- actually growled, like some sort of predatory lion -- but kept his distance.

As he led her through the mansion, he began reciting various details about the house and minuitae about the various architectural designs put into it.

Finally, he led her to a corner of the house that wasn't as densely populated with teenagers. He gestured toward a closed door.

"And this is the make-out room!" he announced. He winked at Daria and leaned in, speaking almost in a conspiratorial whisper. "Confidentially, it's really the laundry room." He knocked on the door and called out, "Don't lean on the buttons!" A gruff voice threatened him, but the high-pitched giggle of an excited female ensured that it probably wouldn't be followed up on.

Upchuck bowed. "That concludes our tour. I'd like to thank you for your undivided attention." He reached out and almost grabbed her hand, but remembered himself as Daria subtly stroked the bulge in her coat pocket. "Any questions?"

"Yes. How did you get invited?'

He shrugged. "I dissected her frog."

Daria considered this. "In Ms. Barch's class? But wouldn't she have gotten an A anyway?"

Upchuck bowed. "Indeed she would have, but one never rejects the opportunity to rise through the social ranks."

"Unless the rank rejects are the only thing society has to offer," Daria shot back.

Upchuck laughed then, as if Daria had just said the funniest thing in the world. "Oh Esmerelda, you're a lady after my own heart!"

"Mm," Daria mumbled. "My name's actually, uh, Daria."

"Really?" Upchuck leered. "Feisty!"

"Why do you keep saying that?" she asked him.

The question caught him off-guard. "Uh? Well, I...uh..."

Daria sighed. "Forget about it." She didn't have to tax her mighty mental powers to construct an educated guess, and any explanation he would offer would likely embarass them both.

Upchuck, to his credit, was able to mostly mask his look of relief. They stood there for a moment, waiting for the other to do something. Finally, Upchuck broke the silence. "So, do you want to, maybe, ditch this place?" he suggested. "I mean, I don't know about you, but confidentially, not many of the attendees appreciate me."

Daria rolled her eyes, then considered his request. "Where would we go?"

Upchuck pumped his fist in victory -- then realized Daria was staring at him, and quickly put his hand behind his back. "Well, there's an airing of Night of the Living Dead in the theater downtown."

"Escaping one gaggle of brainless zombies to watch another bunch? Eh, sure."

XXXX

Upchuck pulled up in front of Daria's house. He couldn't believe the fantastic luck he'd had tonight. A girl actually TALKED to him! For more than five minutes! Without screaming or hitting him!

He suddenly grew ill, fearful that Daria would turn out to be...crazy, or a guy, or something.

"Um, Daria?" he tentatively asked.

She was about to step out of the car, but turned back in her seat.

"Um...why did you hang out with me tonight? I mean...I've never been very lucky with the opposite sex, and well..." He trailed off.

Daria contemplated him for a moment. It would be so easy to cut him in this moment of vulnerability, perhaps resulting in him becoming stronger for it. Or perhaps it would just drive him further into his shell of lecherousness. It would be so easy to be alone.

"Look...Chuck..." She dropped the perjorative prefix for emphasis. "You do act like a big sleaze, but you're actually one of the least repugnant people I've met at Lawndale High and you seem to have a functioning brain -- though I'm loath to think what sort of things you use it for. But...I think you could be a good...friend." She struggled a great deal with the last sentence. The closest thing she'd ever had to a friend before was Cassandra, and she often had her head in the clouds. The clouds of smoke from her pot.

Upchuck was stunned. He himself hadn't had any real friends since he'd discovered the joys of the feminine form. Women didn't want to be with him, and men tended to bruise him if he so much as looked at their girlfriends funny. "I...I'd love to be friends, Daria," he said gratefully (though later, he would curse himself for not seeking out something more than friendship). Then, Daria actually smiled (though Upchuck nearly blinked and missed it), and turned to get out of the car again.

"Wait!" he stopped her again. "Would you, uh, like me to pick you up tomorrow before school?"

Daria shrugged. "Sure. Beats walking."

XOXOXOXOXOX

Author's note: Hello, and thank you for reading the first chapter in my latest 'fic. Now, as you may or may not have noticed, the title has little relation as to what is actually in the body of the fic. The reason for that is: I couldn't think of an interesting creative one in time. So, if you have a suggestion for a better title, I'd love to hear it! (I'd also love to hear your reviews of the fic, but I seldom ask because it seems a bit forward of me.) 


	2. Grist for the Mill

"Hello, Dr. Millepieds," Daria sighed as she sat in his chair.

"Good day, Daria. How are you today?" greeted Dr. Millepieds, the temporary school psychologist.

Daria shrugged. "Well, I made a new friend...or something resembling one...at Brittany's party yesterday."

"Really? That's good news. Tell me about this person."

"Well...he's the school sleaze and hits on pretty much every girl in school, yet he seems to have a functioning brain, so I'm really torn."

"Ah...this would be Charles Ruttheimer the Third, yes?" Daria nodded. "An interesting young man. I think you two will be a positive influence on each other. Now, tell me how your schoolwork is going..."

They discussed Daria's life for several more minutes. Dr. Millepieds then checked his watch, and regretfully sighed. "I'm afraid our time is up, Daria. I was reluctant to tell you, but this will probably be our last session."

"What?" Daria asked. "Why?"

"Well, as you know, I was only called to work here temporarily, and only because I owned Margaret a favor. Now that she's been acquitted, she'll be coming back to Lawndale, and I return to Quiet Ivy to hold the hands of high-level executives and tell them that it's wrong of the world to hate them for being rich." Daria was amazed that he managed to avoid saying it in a cynical, bitter tone.

"You know, Daria, confidentially, I'm glad I was here instead of Dr. Manson. I've heard rumors from the other staff that she generally sends troublemakers to stew in a self-esteem class run by that O'Neill." Dr. Millepieds smiled as he recalled the sarcasm she had dished out in their initial meeting. Oh, Margaret would have been livid.

"Oh, that would have been a barrel of laughs," Daria deadpanned. "Well, it's been nice knowing you, Dr. Millepieds." She stood to go.

"Er...not so fast, Daria. I'd like to give you my card, in case you ever wanted to...chat about things." He handed her his card. "Good day, Daria," he nodded.

XXXX

Sandi, Quinn, and Tiffany were doing a makeup check in the girls' bathroom when Stacy barged in. "Guys! Somebody saw Upchuck leave Brittany's party last night with a woman!"

"OWWWWW!" Sandi shouted, as she accidentally poked herself in the eye with her eyelash comb. As she blotted the tears with a tissue, Stacy explained in one long breath how Upchuck had started talking to the weird chick in the green jacket, vanished into the back of the house (where the laundry room was), then left the party with her.

Tiffany was dumbstruck by the news -- though really, that was hardly a change for her. Sandi had a dismissive sneer on her face. "Well, it figures that Upchuck could only score with some loser."

Quinn was in a state of mass conflicting interests. Daria had made out with a boy. Daria had made out with UPCHUCK. She recalled spying Daria slipping into the house a while after she had gotten back. But the time Stacy said they had left was nearly two hours before that. Had they...Quinn shut off that line of reasoning at light speed.

On the one hand, it would make excellent blackmail material -- Daria doing stuff with a boy and coming in at such a late hour of the night. On the other hand, Daria and UPCHUCK? If anybody found out, Quinn may as well join a convent for how popular she would be. On the third hand...was that happiness? Quinn supposed she was glad her sister had finally bagged a man...but did it have to be UPCHUCK?

XXXX

Daria reclined on her bed, reading a book, when Quinn entered her room unannounced. "Daria, why didn't you tell me you were dating Upchuck?"

"That's funny, I don't recall hearing anybody knocking on my door," Daria replied.

"Damnit, Daria, this is serious! Do you know how much my popularity would fall if people found out you were dating Upchuck? A lot!"

Daria briefly took off her glasses so she could rub the bridge of her nose, then put them back on. "Quinn, what gave you the impression I was dating Upchuck?"

"Well, Stacy said that Brooke said that Jennifer said that you and Upchuck both ran into the laundry room giggling and -- wait, you never giggle."

"Bingo," Daria noted, and went back to her book.

"So...are you dating Upchuck?" Quinn asked.

"No, Quinn. He has a mind, and he's occasionally not afraid to use it, which means he's more interesting than most of the idiots we go to school with."

"Well...I guess I can understand that. But...can you please not hang out with him ever again?"

Daria sighed. "Sure thing, Quinn."

Before Quinn could leave, Daria leaned over and picked up the phone off her nightstand. Quinn watched in fascinated horror as Daria dialed, then spoke. "Hey, Chuck, I changed my mind. I would like to go see Angels With Dirty Souls. I'll be standing outside. Bye."

"Ooooooooh!" Quinn moaned, stomping her foot. "I'll get you for that, Daria!"

"Sure, Quinn. Me and my dog Toto too." 


End file.
